


Once You Go Black You Never Go Back- Drowliel

by orphan_account



Category: SPN, Supernatural, destiel - Fandom, drowliel
Genre: DROWLIEL - Freeform, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 01:29:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5072701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 2 to My Brother's Keeper (Headcanon) by Cherryflavouredwings<br/>It's the end of the world for the Winchesters and Crowley has finally gotten everything he has ever wanted. With that pitiful excuse for an angel out of the picture (we love him really I promise), he's free to take what he wants from the corrupted green-eyed man. And isn't he going to make the most of it. With help from the best trickster in the business, Crowley gets a night to remember for the rest of his immortal life.</p><p>(this is a crack just in case you couldn't tell , also you made the ending spectacular so shut up)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once You Go Black You Never Go Back- Drowliel

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [My Brother's Keeper (Headcanon)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3505109) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 
  * Inspired by [My Brother's Keeper (Headcanon)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3505109) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



Crowley runs a slender finger through Dean's untamed stubble. A sickening grin latches itself on to the almighty King's lips- this is Dean. He leans down ever so slightly and grazes the edge of his tongue along Dean's earlobe because well Dean's hot and Crowley cannot deny that. He bites down into the side of Dean's neck with sharpened teeth.

“You're my baby now.” The light of the flickering candle illuminates Dean's rugged features. The mere sight of the man sends a brutal buzz of wild electricity flooding into Crowley's veins. This is what he had been dreaming of since the moment Sam first injected that vital dose of human blood into his system. “What a good moose.” Crowley chuckles to himself getting lost in his thoughts for a short moment. These are the first few cogs of Crowley's master plan set in to motion. There was only one key element missing.

Crowley runs a soft finger over the curvature of Dean's rough lips. His finger falls and elevates with each rise and dip in the other man's skin. Crowley grins a delectably savage grin. He runs his hands down Dean's chest to the clasp of the man's jeans. His fingers trace over the delicately detailed button. He wouldn't allow himself this yet. He couldn't do it without the final key member of the inconspicious trio's arrival. He pulls back from Dean and drops to the floor beside the unconscious figure. He grabs Dean's hand in his own and, with a light finger and his delicate touch, he begins to trace uneven circles into the other man's skin.

If Dean had never taken the mark of Cain they wouldn't be here now. Maybe Crowley had manipulated Dean just a little to get his way but for the mark on Dean's forearm Crowley was undeniably grateful.

He laces his fingers with Dean's as the man begins to stir.

“Cas?” Crowley's heart (or whatever was left of it) plummets. Always, always that bloody angel! But not anymore, that, that adorable obstacle is firmly out of his way. Dean is here, with him, forever, underneath him at last. Crowley vows never to let him leave again. “Cas?” With a free hand, Dean wipes the drying drool from off of his stubbled chin. His eyes remain half closed and filled with a delicious sleepy haze. The gruff morning voice of the Dean!mon strikes something within the king, it really gets his motor running.

“Hey dean, sweet dreams, eh? Honey you're in for a fantasy you'll never wake up from tonight.” Dean blinks his eyes once more attempting to clear the sleep lurking within his lids. A rough callous moan escapes Dean's lips and reverberates through the king's body. He let's a purr of excitement leave him as the ground beneath him trembles for just a few seconds. The seeds of his plan are quickly being sown and soon they will be ripe for the taking.

“So is the king going to ask his servants to kneel or am I allowed the pleasure?” Gabe's voice chimes through the room in which the three men remain. Crowley takes a pensive moment to sift through his few options- dominance or submission? Either way he was in for a wild few hours. With his index finger and thumb, he strokes the stubble on his centuries old chin. Many of his demonic subjects did say he had his mother's chin. All of those who dared utter the words are dead now. Justice, thou art a foul bitch- justice going by the name of Crowley, of course. Crowley pushes the thought from his mind and turns his attention back to the question in front of him.

“On your knees Gabriel.” Crowley commands with a thickening lust building in his eyes. It had been so long since he had felt another's touch- decades he assumes. He craves the electricity of the bedroom and the high of the act he is just prior to performing. Oh how he'd marvel upon this feat for centuries to come. This is his chance to let loose and take what he craves most right now. Gabriel obliges to the king's command and kneels before Crowley, biting his lower lip in an attempt at seduction but goddamnit Crowley was already there.

“Jesus Christ.” Crowley pants as the excitement overwhelms his body.

“Would you mind not mentioning my brother right now? It's kind of a turn off.” Gabe shivers at the thought crossing his mind. The act they are about to perform is so devious yet so exotic and exciting that Crowley is sure if Dean or Gabe's family ever found out they'd disown the pair of them without a second thought. Gabriel would be dispatched from heaven and have his grace taken away, whilst Dean would lose all right to his Winchester name. Family didn't matter now. All that mattered was the task ahead of him. He could almost feel the sensations running through him already. God he needed this.

Crowley had forgotten his condoms. There seems to be a serious lack of drug stores down in hell right now. He scowls slightly at his absent minded self. How important was protection anyway? It's not like he could get either Dean or Gabe pregnant, unless there were some serious breaches in the laws of nature, and he certainly wasn't carrying any foreign sexually transmitted diseases with him now, was he?

Crowley reaches out a trembling hand, anticipation thriving in his bloodstream, to push a strand of hair from Dean's now conscious face.

“There. Much better. I can see that pretty boy face now.” He rolls his tongue over the words and licks his lips as the sentences leave his mouth.

Dean gazes up into the king's eyes, his gaze remains fixated upon Dean. Dean stays put in his delusional state, unsure of what is going on. The events of the last few days have yet to process in his mind.

“Cas, where am I?” He groans. Pain sparks at the back of Dean's head. He reaches a shaking hand up to where the sensation is localised. Blood comes away on his hand. “Cas, what is this? What happened?” The lack of reply frightens Dean. “Why won't you talk to me?” A shot of red fires before Dean's eyes. The pain lurking at the back of his skull numbs into nothingness as two fingers are rested upon his head. Cas healed him, or so he thinks for just a moment. The pain gives way and Dean regains his sight. A dim light flickers around the angel in front of him, giving him a perfect halo above his glistening hair. This isn't Castiel, this is Gabriel. Where is his angel? Crowley hides himself deep within the shadows, the red glow of his irises gave him an unholy visage. “CAS!” Dean calls out, begging, praying for his sweet little angel to emerge from the shadows and save him from this nightmare he is living.

“Castiel isn't here. Don't you remember what you did to him? Don't you remember thrusting your unholy blade into his chest?” Crowley takes a step forward. A sickening smirk plants itself on to the demon's lips.

“No.” Dean's breath catches in his throat. Disbelief is evident in the human's expression.

“Look at me Dean.” Dean roll his neck up into Crowley's direction but keeps his gaze distant from the king. Crowley reach out to soft fingers to lift Dean's gaze towards him. “You're finally free Dean. You have been released of the burden you have carried for so long.” Burden? Castiel was not a burden to Dean. Castiel was Dean's world. Dean doesn't say a word so Crowley continues. “First it was Cas and then little brother Sammy too. Both of them dead by your hands my dear. That little boy you vowed to look after, you practically raised him Dean, and the angel, the one you were so dearly in love with, both of them are dead now and it's all because of you. It was all for nothing though. You failed. The mark's influence still resides within you because you failed to complete the destiny set out for you. You failed to kill me Dean and now you have to live with the guilt forever.” Crowley leans forward pressing a soft pair of lips against Dean's neck. He sinks his teeth into Dean's skin. Dean can't hold back the moan eager to escape his lips. “Now that's a sound I love to hear.”

Dean's eyes glowed like stars in the darkness. You could practically see the questions forming in his mind. So many questions... There would be plenty of time for that later.

“Does he remember?” Gabriel whispered a soft enticing whisper. Crowley places a firm finger onto the enquiring lips.

“He'll remember soon, don't you worry. Who could ever forget the haunted look in Castiel's blue eyes and the feel of moose's broken bones beneath their hands?” Crowley laughed a deep, slow chuckle. One that, for just a second, revealed the malignant soul inside this terrible and ancient being. One who had walked the Earth around thousands of times. A cold, dead presence... with an English accent. Crowley decided the time had come. The green eyes that were once his elixir had been mightly surpassed by the jet black irises he had come to lust over. How could he delve into the soul so many had tried and failed to reach for? How could he bring the darkness that lived so deep in everyone to the surface?

Crowley runs both hands through Dean's mop of hair styling it into the windswept look he loves so much. Dean looks up into the king's scarlet eyes.

“Jerk.” Crowley mumbles hoping with eveything he had in him that the simple word will invoke the reaction he craves from within Dean.

“Bitch.” Comes the short reply but it's everything the demon needed. Crowley's face splits into a demonic grin. His eyes light up. He has his partner in crime back.

“The misadventures of Crowley and Squirrel continue.” Crowley was intoxicated. This simple act has rid him of his fears, not that he had any of course. Gabriel was the angel who descended to Earth. Dean was the convoluted man. The righteous man, the once and future demon, trapped in a never ending spiral of destiny and choice intertwined and completely under Crowley's left thumb. He had everything he's ever needed, everything he's ever dreamt of, in this room right now. An angel so devious his character verges upon evil and a man so tainted even Cain himself would cower in fear (if he were in fact still alive). Crowley was there when Dean slaughtered Cain. He knows what this man is capable of. He's heard stories of the trickster's deceitful ways. Both this factors drive him insane with desire and lust. Both these righteous beings turn him on in a way he'll never truly be able to comprehend but dammit he likes it. These two men, loved and feared in all planes of existence but they belong to Crowley. A feeling that rarely ever breaks the darkest layer of his heart rises. A feeling so old, older than time, and yet so mistrusted. Crowley quickly pushes the feeling down, so often confused with lust or hunger. That is all he can afford right now.

The atmosphere is a necropolis, suffocating him with want and need. Crowley wonders if he is actually here, if the metaphysical world he has spent his time dreaming is just that, a dream. He barely restrains himself from reaching up a hand to pinch his skin, but he decides, if this is a dream then he doesn't want to know. He'd rather live in his illusions and delusions than face reality. He intends to carry on pretending that this is real despite the ever present looming doubt that it may not be.

The king reaches out a gentle hand towards the angel's face. Gabe looks up into Crowley's eyes with a hungered smile on his lips. Dean's eyes remain transfixed on the two 'men' before him. The everpresent smirk on the human/demon abonimation screams desire. Memories of his trench coat angel niggle away at the back of his mind, trying to break through to the surface but as of yet there has been little to no success. He is one with the mark and Castiel is merely an after thought, a foot note, in the story of a lifetime. This feat is one Dean will remember for the rest of his life and he has no upholding desire to spoil it. 

“ _I’m the one who will have to watch you murder the world, so if there’s even a small chance that we can save you, I won’t let you walk out of this room.”_

“You're not here. I killed you.” Dean growls, trying to shake the voice from his head. The blackness seeps away from his eyes and is replaced by a shadow of the green that once took pride of place in his orbs.

Crowley is losing him. He is slipping away. Even in death Crowley cannot escape that darn angel.

“Go big or go home.” Nothing about Crowley is done in half measures- he had sold his soul for an extra three inches after all. 'Big' wasn't even the word to describe it. A malevolent chuckle escapes the threshold of his lips. Gabe wraps his arms around the king from behind.

“Do it.” He whispers into the demon's ear. Crowley can feel every inch of Gabriel pressed tightly into his back, spurring him on to achieve his delicious high. He can feel Gabe's anticipation lurking deep in his trousers, eager to spring free. It would be wrong to deny him.

Crowley clicks his fingers. Every light in the room glows red- appropriate. Gabe purrs his approval. The king crawls forward, the angel still resting firmly on his back as if this is some sort of kinky piggyback ride. He leans over Dean. His hot breath glides over the sensitive skin of the human's neck.

“Open your eyes, Dean. See what I see. Feel what I feel. And trust me, sweet thing, you are going to love every last minute.”

 

 


End file.
